Ronin walked into Lurans's bedroom.
As the weather grew colder, Lurans's physical condition worsened. It wasn't that his illness was progressing; in truth, he always suffered greatly during the winter.
The fireplace had already made the room very warm, but Lurans was still covered with a thick wool quilt. He looked hot just lying there.
"Grandfather, how are you feeling?"
'Just what kind of illness could torment a Meteor Knight—one who had tempered his flesh, organs, and bones, and even broken through the Falu Wheel—for so many years?' Ronin was deeply puzzled.
"The usual. As long as I don't use my Fighting Qi, I'm fine."
Lurans propped himself up and leaned against the headboard. "I hear you're leaving tomorrow?"
Ronin nodded.
Today was the seventeenth. Two days had passed since Curry gave him the Three Thousand Gold Coins, and it had been five days since he returned to Wushan Castle.
